Just a OneShot Daydream
by Mii-Sama
Summary: After spending years out of the Wammy house, and Mello's leaving, Near longs for Mello desperately before the fatal accident.


_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Death Note_

_Note: This story wasn't made to be put on so. . . Be happy. . . I put it because. . . I love you all. . . No. . . I lied. . . I actually love Ichigo and Yoyo. . . And Shuii-chan. . . Gomen. . . Read on space rangers. . . Read on. . ._

**Just a One-Shot Daydream**

I can remember many things from my past. . . I remember how the light had shined so much brighter, how the birds would sing everyone in the orphanage awake; how I felt the first time I met him. . .

With all of the good times, there were always bad times. . . And I remember them all. . . I remember the glares he would give me from across the room whenever other people would congratulate me on another job well-done. . .

Why wouldn't he come over and say that to me? No matter how many times I would do my best to try to make him talk to me, at least one word, even a smile would do. . . It never seemed to work. . .

Yet, that wasn't the only bad time that I could remember. . . I can remember when I would be completely bored from Mass and Sunday school. . .

Church was the worst. I still question this 'God' fellow. . . I can remember the way I would tirelessly await for him to invite me outside. . . I would never accept anyone else's invitation until he told me. . . Sadly. . . That never came. . .

I remember. . . When we did spend time together, it would be all but too long. . . I would sit next to him in church and never pay attention to the pastor. I would only await his glare so that I may meet with his delightfully beautiful eyes. . . It never failed. . . He always gave me a glare and would turn away. It was always worth it. . .

But the only time when it was nearly unbearable to me was when L left. . . I didn't feel as if I would live to see the next day when he left. . . My only positive reinforcement was that I would search for him. . .

You left because I had asked you the question. . . And you didn't know how to answer. . . I found that letter that you left for Matt. . . . I learned of how you would return to me when you finally figured out how to answer me. . .

The only times when I felt sorrow was when we were parted. I would display scenes and times I've made up in my mind where he would be nice to me. . . I'd display these fantasies over and over again, longing for them to become reality.

Every time you would leave, I'd count the moments until you would return. . . Every time you would hang up, I would restlessly await the hour for the phone to ring with you on the other line. . . Every time you would walk out of my door, I would pray for the time when you would walk back in. . . .

. . . All one-shot daydreams. . . I knew that none of them would ever come true. . . But I have hoped. . . I have prayed. . .

Looking back at all of these times, I question my own actions. Should I have just sat there? Should I have took matters into my own hands and took him when I had the chance? . . . How would he respond? . . . Does he feel the same way that I feel about him?

I look over my shoulder and see my balcony, a desperate longing swelled inside of me. Would that help me? Would the rising sun fulfill my desires? . . .

"Gevanni," I spoke into the microphone, "I will be out for a while. . ."

"Alright," he responded.

As I slowly walk over to try to ease my aching heart and mind, I see my favorite wind-up snow globe with two little figures that I had modified to look like him and I. . .

I picked it up and turned it over. The false snow floated to the top of the glass dome. I slowly winded it and set it to its rightful position.

The false snow floated down on the miniature figures and I walked over to the balcony, accompanied with the sound of soft chimes of the metallic notes and the slowly hastening rain that had formed. . .

How suiting for such an occasion?

As I sat over the balcony, ready to end this here and now, I could hear someone approaching. I wasn't about to turn and look. Maybe someone needs to witness my fate. . .

Just as I tilted myself foreword, I saw black leather at the corner of my eye. I was speechless. Could it be? I turn to look and. . . . It is!

Mello. . .

He sat hunched over the railings too and stared into the abyss of the rising sun. His expression was so sad. . . I couldn't help but stare at him, mouth slightly agape.

"So. . . This is how this all turned out, huh, Near. . ." he said so casually without even looking at me.

I felt tears flooding the bottom of my eyes but was powerless to do something about it. All I could do was staring into his beauty. He lit up in the rising sun. . . Just like the dark angel I had daydreamed about. . .

"Near. . ." he sighed."Is this really how you want to end this?"

With that said, I couldn't help but begin to slowly cry. He was actually talking to me without threats or hate. . . Does he care about me? . . .

I turn my head away and feel the rain escorting my tears from my eyes. Not taking the rain into consideration, I shut my eyes tight, as to stop the flow.

". . . No. . . ." I whimper softly.

"Then. . . Don't do this. . ." he turned to me, his eyes filled with so much sorrow, even the rain failed to wash away his expression.

I just looked up at him with a sense of relief that I was sure that he had seen also. I've kept it bottled up for so long; I couldn't hold it in. . . .

"Then, please. . . Get off from the ledge. . . And live. . ." he pleaded softly.

Seeing him and hearing those words. . . I had been filled up with a new found strive for life. . . As long as Mello was next to me to live it with. . .

The wind-up music I had set was slowly coming to an end. I had turned around and stepped onto firm ground. I had my back faced to him. I had to make sure. . . I wanted to know. . .

"Mello. . ." I began slowly, ". . . Do you. . . Love me? . . ."

I could hear his silence as he looked up at the sky. I knew that he was going to answer when he was facing me.

I could hear him grip the pole and turn his body to come back in. . . . Then. . .

Wind-up music stops; slip 

My face had lost all emotion. . . I stood silent. . . I slowly turn around. . . The balcony was empty. . . I could hear the faint sound of a thud and the sound of a girl's scream.

. . . . . . I guess. . . I'll never know. . .


End file.
